My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 259

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Azazel spoke shamelessly as he slowly lifted the cloth covering Bishop Marik’s face. The face hidden beneath the veil was not Saraka’s face that I knew well. The person before me called ‘Bishop Marik’ had his entire face covered in burn scars, unlike Saraka.

“This person is….”

“That’s right. The great Bishop Marik himself.”

The demon dressed in knight’s ceremonial attire kissed the sleeping bishop’s hand. It was more mockery than respect.

“Similar, isn’t it?”

It went beyond simply being similar. From the way he walked to how he used his body, minor habits, voice and speech patterns – it was difficult to find any differences from the Saraka I had seen.

Only after lifting the veil and checking the face directly could I barely distinguish that this was a different person…. No wonder no one in the Temple noticed that Saraka was Bishop Marik’s double.

There was a reason Azazel had suddenly arranged this meeting with Bishop Marik. If I hadn’t checked beneath the cloth, I probably wouldn’t have believed in Saraka’s absence.

“Do you believe me now? My words that Saraka doesn’t exist in this world.”

I was about to nod but stopped. I glared at Azazel and asked.

“Azazel. You didn’t burn Saraka’s face and insist she’s Bishop Marik, did you?”

“Are you crazy? Why would I?”

“To gain my trust.”

Azazel protested his innocence, but my suspicion was valid. It was Azazel who held a grudge against me and put Gabriel in danger. Just recently he was spouting threats about killing Gabriel. I couldn’t ignore the possibility that he was scheming to trap me.

“Wow, Saraka imitated Marik so well that it has this reverse effect.”

Azazel swept back his fallen hair. Then he let out a deep sigh and spoke.

“I didn’t want to bring up this story…. Saraka is afraid of fire. Bishop Marik shoved Saraka’s hand into a brazier, saying he’d make identical burn scars on her hands. So I could never do something like burning Saraka’s face to deceive you, my lady.”

At Azazel’s firm words, I closed my mouth.

He can’t do what Saraka fears? What magnificent pure love. The fact that even that disgusting bastard had a sanctuary was truly amusing. It was even more so because Azazel’s excuse convinced me.

Gabriel. Because such a sanctuary exists for me too.

“How pitiful.”

“What is?”

“You’ll regress before seeing yourself burned at the stake when Saraka is executed.”

When Azazel gritted his teeth and glared at me, I smiled brightly as if to show off.

Of course it was a lie. I was too busy with Gabriel hovering between life and death to pay attention to Saraka. I didn’t know how Saraka would be dealt with either. The Temple had been burning heretics until now, but that was also Bishop Marik’s method, so now that the bishop was not just expelled but branded a heretic, they would adopt different methods. That would become the Temple’s new guideline going forward.

I knew this but still babbled about burning at the stake just to ruin Azazel’s mood. I thought this must have been how Azazel felt when he used Gabriel to provoke me. Trying it myself wasn’t particularly satisfying though.

Looking straight into the eyes of Azazel, who was angry enough to grab me by the collar, I said.

“Yet you said you wanted to go back. As you know, even if you return, you can’t prevent Saraka’s execution.”

“I know.”

“And maybe you just couldn’t find her, but Saraka might be living perfectly fine in this world too.”

A Saraka who wasn’t caught by Bishop Marik would live a much better life. She wouldn’t be tortured by being burned, and wouldn’t commit more evil acts through brainwashing.

“Yes. That’s possible….”

Azazel smiled crookedly.

“But that’s not my Saraka.”

It was a clear answer. Rather than wishing for the other’s happiness, wanting them to be stuck in the mud together was truly demonic and selfish.

And damn it, it resembled my own thoughts when looking at Gabriel, who existed as a perfect prince in this place.

It left a bitter taste.

***

Bishop Marik regained consciousness shortly after. Azazel and I acted innocent as if nothing had happened and drank tea. Bishop Marik seemed to think she had dozed off for just a moment.

There wasn’t a single clock in Bishop Marik’s drawing room, as she tried to appear frugal publicly. Naturally, there was no way to know how long she had been asleep.

“I was rude to doze off in front of Evangeline.”

Bishop Marik seemed ashamed of briefly falling asleep in front of an outsider, stiffening her body while pretentiously clearing her throat. I gently set down my teacup and smiled softly.

“Bishop, you’re always devoted to fulfilling the Divine’s mission. It’s natural that fatigue would accumulate.”

Azazel immediately chimed in.

“Evangeline is right. The Divine knows of your devotion, Bishop, so He allowed you to rest your body with a brief nap.”

Like the snake he was, his smooth tongue-wagging was disgusting. Thinking that he had been moving his mouth like this in the Temple, pretending to be a faithful knight, made me nauseous.

“I merely convey the Divine’s words, and Evangeline is truly faithful enough to be watched over by the Divine.”

Bishop Marik didn’t back down either, slightly bowing her head in modesty.

Having exchanged enough pleasantries and having no more business, I was about to leave when Bishop Marik made the first move.

“How about offering a prayer before you go?”

I hesitated briefly at Bishop Marik’s suggestion but nodded to avoid seeming suspicious. Since I had miraculously recovered completely, it was natural to pray to the Divine. I consciously maintained my smile as I headed to the prayer room with Bishop Marik.

It was a private prayer room used by nobles and distinguished guests, and the interior was quite lavish. Golden decorations symbolizing the sun were embedded everywhere, and sunlight poured through windows installed along the walls. The light was tinged with gold, appearing holy and sacred. With this level of decoration, even non-believers might develop faith.

I followed Bishop Marik inside.

Bishop Marik knelt and clasped her hands together. Azazel had already escaped with the excuse of guarding the door. Should I really pretend to pray to Rahel?

“Great Sun. Shine upon us with eternal light and illuminate our path.”

Bishop Marik recited a prayer. Her voice resonated low and quietly, seeming to fill the space.

“Always watch over us, and let not even shadows fall upon our steps.”

Then the air in the prayer room suddenly turned cold. As Bishop Marik’s prayer continued, my breathing became labored. I even had the illusion that something invisible was eerily staring at me and strangling my neck. Instinctively, I brought my hand to my throat.

That’s when it happened. The surrounding air began to twist and distort.

“Bishop Marik?”

I called out urgently to Bishop Marik, but the bishop ignored my call.

“Under your dazzling radiance, burn away the darkness of the ignorant….”

Bishop Marik rose from her position. No, did she rise? It looked like someone was forcibly lifting her up like moving a puppet.

“Show the truth to those eyes.”

Bishop Marik moved her arms in bizarre motions and removed the veil covering her face.

The face revealed again was completely different from what I had seen just moments before. The aged, wrinkled face was not Saraka’s face either. It was probably the real face of the ordinary Bishop Marik, unburned. Just moments ago, there had definitely been burn marks all over the face….

Before I could understand what was happening, the bishop’s previously intact face began to burn. Blisters formed and scars appeared. The face burned away in a place with no flames at all, and before I could be shocked by this, the wounds healed instantly as if nothing had happened. The face repeatedly melted away and recovered like this.

Despite this agonizing spectacle repeating before my eyes, Bishop Marik didn’t even let out a scream, let alone a groan.

No. That’s not Bishop Marik.

And the lips of ‘that thing’ that wasn’t Bishop Marik opened very slowly, at a strange angle.

“Child of the most impure thing.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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